


Surprise

by Julian_Nesmith (PhoenixSong13)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, M/M, Magic, Narcissism, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28517220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSong13/pseuds/Julian_Nesmith
Summary: Draco Malfoy has an interesting intimate encounter with... himself?! Things are definitely not what they seem but that's a normal thing when you go to Hogwarts
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Other(s)
Kudos: 10





	Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> So this story is really, really old lol I have revised it twice now and republished from my original account on Fanfiction.net. it is still a fun story for me!
> 
> It was based on an illustration by Diana Sprinkle. Set during Half-Blood Prince but it's definitely an AU situation. Sorry if it's kind of fast-pace, I didn't used to write super long stuff XD Enjoy!

Surprise

Surprise

*Based on a picture by Diana X. Sprinkle. Originally written in late 2002 or early 2003. Revised 5-7-2009. Re-revised 01-02-2021 Characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Not written for money or profit. Strictly for entertainment purposes. Please don't sue*

Draco Malfoy stretched as he slowly woke to the real world. It was well past 9:30am and he knew that he would be in real trouble when his teachers caught up with him.

Not that he cared. School meant very little to him, especially now that the Dark Lord was beginning to rise again, casting a black shadow over all of the magical world. He, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe ditched classes on a regular basis anymore.

Draco was failing every class except Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Snape continued to give him a passing grade simply for show. If he failed him, Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, could quite easily relay to Voldemort that Snape was no longer his loyal servant, which was the truth. Lucius was already doubtful and would be thrilled to have an excuse to get rid of Snape. And once Voldemort found out… well, that would be the end of old Severus, plain and simple. The ex-Potions Master was no Harry Potter; the Killing Curse would obliterate the man's miserable life in seconds. No, Severus Snape was no fool.

Draco stood and walked to the window. He looked out over the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The grass was lush and green, even though it was only the 25th of March. Every witch and wizard with only an ounce of Herbology knowledge knew that this was going to be a dry year. When June arrived, all of the greenery would turn a sickly shade of yellow-brown.

Draco missed the quiet calm of Malfoy Manor, with its sprawling gardens and enchanted waterfalls, the extravagant blue and green peacocks strutting alongside their rarer and far more beautiful albino-white cousins. At least if he were there, he could do anything he wanted and go anywhere he pleased. Free to enjoy life's luxuries.

He'd tried to convince his mother to bring him home for the rest of the year, but Narcissa told him that there was too much going on and his father had informed him that Voldemort had ordered Draco to stay on to be his spy at Hogwarts.

Draco had tactfully neglected to tell his parents that he was no longer loyal to the Dark Lord himself.

When he had been much younger, the knowledge that his family had worked for Voldemort had been a thing of pride for him. He flaunted his family lineage, wealth, and influence. Since the Dark Lord had started to rise once more, however, Draco had been privy to things he had never imagined. He had seen witches and wizards, good men and women, die simply because they were not of the pure-blood lines of magic. This, if nothing else, had swayed him from serving Voldemort.

Draco Malfoy was no murderer and he knew that. No matter what the Dark Lord might want of him, killing someone was not something he would ever do no matter how he was threatened. 

The blond-haired boy sat on the window sill, his eyes turned to look outside though they were unseeing as he lost himself in thought. He actually missed the quieter, calmer years spent here at Hogwarts, when the most he had to really think about were ways to just give Harry Potter grief. Nothing dangerous, nothing deadly, just normal things. A well-placed Jelly-Legs Curse was always a winner with Potter; the dark-haired boy was actually quite adept at a brisk two-step when under the curse's effects.

Draco couldn't help the smile that crept across his face as he thought about the times he'd cast that curse on Potter. It really was in good fun, he could admit that to himself. He could have done much worse things. He really had no desire to actually hurt the other boy (the day they'd arrived at the school this year didn't count; he only broke Potter's nose because the Gryffindor was snooping and his testimony had sent Draco's father to Azkaban for a bit) though and so he stuck to silly curses and jinxes.

From outside the dormitory, Draco heard someone mutter, "Incarcerata Perpetrare", breaking him from his thoughts quite abruptly. Unlike other Hogwarts House dormitories, Slytherin's not only required a password for the entrance to the Common Room, but for all of the individual dormitory rooms as well. Slytherins weren't very trustworthy with other people's possessions and even that extra bit of security didn't stop each Slytherin student from implementing unique locking devices on their trunks and armoires. Draco had received a nasty burn in the second year after attempting to break into Blaise Zabini's trunk and that was a lesson well-learned.

The stone of the secret door ground its way open. Draco didn't look up. It was probably Crabbe and Goyle coming up to keep him company. He could tell that whoever it was was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him. The unwavering eye contact was making him feel agitated.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's rude to stare?" he asked, wrapping his arms around his knees.

There was no answer. The person continued to stare.

"Are you deaf or just plain stu…" He turned sharply and the comment died in his throat.

There, right in front of him, steely-gray eyes not moving, blond hair in perfect order, smug smirk fixed upon his lips, was himself.

Draco stared hard for a moment, not sure if he could trust his eyes. He was looking at a perfect replica of himself. Even the clothes were the same.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Draco demanded, standing up quickly and drawing his wand from his robes.

"Well, I believe I'm you. I look like you, I sound like you… Or maybe you're me. What do you think?" his clone replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Draco never really realized how irritating that smirk actually was and made a mental note to work on it.

"I think I'm still asleep and you're nothing but a mucked up dream, concocted from drinking way too much butterbeer last night and eating some of those firewhiskey liqueurs that my mum sent me for Christmas." Draco pinched himself, trying to determine if this really was a dream. But he felt the pain from the pinch run all the way up his arm. So that theory was out.

The other Draco laughed, a cold sound that seemed to penetrate the real Draco's bones. "Touch me, Draco. I'm as real as you."

Draco really had no intention of touching him, but his hand began moving of its own accord and he couldn't stop it. He touched a shoulder and then moved to his face. He traced a line down his clone's face, down the center of the nose and down the lips.

As his finger passed over his clone's lips, the other Draco encircled Draco's wrist with his hand. He opened his mouth and gently bit the real Draco's fingertip, a sultry look in his pale gray eyes.

Draco jumped back. He stared at himself for a moment or two. No, wait… Correction, he stared at the other Draco. This was completely crackers.

A second later, without warning, he found himself flat on his back as his clone raised his own wand and said, "Expelliarmus!" The Disarming Spell sent him sprawling and it knocked the breath from his lungs and the wand from his fongers.

A moment later, he was pinned down on the stone floor with his clone straddling his hips. He tried to fight him, but found he couldn't move a centimetre. .

"We are so beautiful, Draco," his captor purred, grinding down against the Slytherin beneath him.

Draco moaned as he felt the other Draco's erection against his own. It felt hard and thick, mirrored to his. He rubbed back on instinct, his body betraying his own narcissistic lust that was coursing through him.

How often could one say they got intimate with… themself?

His clone moved his hand toward the zipper of Draco's slacks, the thin fingers nimbly undoing it and then reaching in and pulling out the long, thick member. At the same time, his other hand was busy doing the same to himself.

He moved and slid his cock alongside Draco's as he draped his body out over him. He thrust his pelvis into Draco's, not needing time to build either of them up. Simply being close to each other had aroused them.

Draco responded eagerly, his hips rising to meet the other Draco's. It felt good and and he knew it probably shouldn't but it was as if his body was so starved for contact that he found he really couldn't care less by the semantics. He couldn't believe how good the rawness of it made him feel and he thrust up to him with reckless abandon, wanting a quick orgasm.

For several minutes, all that could be heard was the sound of clothing rustling together and heavy, needy panting between sloppy, heated kisses that echoed around the circular dormitory. The sounds increased and quite suddenly and far too soon, Draco gasped as he came hard, his back arching in an almost painful bow.

The bliss was damn near mind-numbing for Draco, who couldn't remember the last time he had even touched himself. The feeling of another body against his (albeit his own), was delicious, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him at lightning speed. His entire body tensed and he blanked out entirely for a moment, simply existing as a mass of nerve endings and not a person at all.

The other Draco growled as he watched the real one come undone. It was enough to send him over the edge only seconds later as well, and he spilled his seed onto Draco's pelvis and abdomen. He then collapsed against the real Draco, his arms too shaky to hold him up any longer, and lay there, panting and heaving.

Draco's fingers absentmindedly sunk into the other young man's hair and he stroked the silken, white-blond strands gently. He never realized how soft his own hair was. It was almost an enlightening experience, having done this with whoever the other Draco actually was. 

Within a moment or two, however, things changed. Or more like, his clone changed. The next thing he knew, Draco found himself holding Hogwarts' Boy Wonder, The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter himself, against his chest.

They both stared at one another with wide eyes. Silver stared in shock and more than just a little confusion; emerald-green stared back with terror. In the spanse of time that followed, Draco continued to hold him, not really wanting to let go even though everything in his brain was telling him that this was a very dangerous situation and it would be a mistake to entertain this. 

Another, much less practical part of himself really didn't give a damn if it was dangerous or not. That was the part that continued to hold onto Harry Potter.

Finally, when several awkward seconds had passed, Draco managed to get himself together enough to ask hoarsely, "Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry nodded, his own mouth extremely dry now. He attempted to sit up but the Slytherin boy kept him firmly in place. "Y—yeah…Look… I just… Damn it… I just wanted to…" But what he wanted to do, exactly, he wasn't sure and so his words trailed off into nothingness for a moment before he muttered, "Sorry…"

"Sorry?!" Draco was painfully aware that his voice had gone up several octaves. "Sorry for what, exactly? Drinking that foul potion to look like me, coming up here by breaking about 20 school rules, if not regular wizarding laws, or giving me the best damned orgasm I've felt in ages? Which one are you sorry for? Because if it's the last one, I'll jinx you so badly your ancestors will be reeling from it, Potter!"

Harry blinked rapidly several times before asking, incredulously, "You're not angry about this…?"

"Merlin's pants, no! I've never felt anything that damned good. Quite seriously, feel free to use that potion any time to do that again. It was just plain sexy. You don't have to use it if you don't want to though…" Draco smirked. "It's kind of flattering knowing that Harry Potter wants to be my bedfellow."

Harry's ears and cheeks turned bright red. He looked away, but murmured softly, "Anything you want…I'll do whatever you want me to. I won't lie to you, Mal-- Draco. I've thought about this for a very long time."

Draco grinned and pulled Harry down on top of him again, growling. "I want you to kiss me then. And then have your wicked way with me. That's what I want."

Harry looked at him and smirked to himself. "Fine…only this time…your arse is mine."

Draco gave him a devilish look and stretched upwards, drawing the Gryffindor into an all-consuming kiss as he sank into the blissful oblivion of pleasure that was Harry Potter. 

Maybe he was glad that he had stayed at Hogwarts after all.

Fini

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping the link will work. Here is the illustration this story is based on! 
> 
> http://www.ghostcircles.com/dxs/archives/art/dracodraco/
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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